Stupid
by uselessbroodygay
Summary: Who knew Laura would resort to Carmilla's birth name when she was angry?


_"__She was my terrible roommate."_

Maybe it was because she had tears in her eyes. Maybe it was because she was too preoccupied with the thought that just days earlier, the vampire that she'd found herself quite _fond _of had foolishly, selfishly (in Laura's eyes) sacrificed herself to destroy her own psychotic mother and some big stupid light demon.

Maybe the fact that Carmilla was actually gone had hit her hard – hard enough for her not to notice the puff of black smoke behind her, or the figure that was now sat on her late roommate's bed.

"Was?"

That voice. It soon brought Laura back to her senses. She turned, almost tipping off her own chair in the process, staring for what felt like hours but in reality was probably mere seconds. "Carm? Wha—But—You're alive?"

"I wouldn't exactly say that, sweetheart." Carmilla sat still, the only obvious movement being the twitch at the corner of her mouth. In contrast to her hard, roughed up exterior, her dark eyes were soft.

Laura was finding the whole situation hard to comprehend. Sure, the idea of Carmilla being dead was hard to comprehend too, but this was something else entirely. She liked to think that somewhere in the back of her mind, part of her knew that the other girl wasn't dead – that the idea of her being dead was just ridiculous.

The vampire raised an eyebrow, a look of amusement with a hint of nervousness gracing her features. Laura's silence was making her wonder whether she made the right decision in choosing just to show up.

The room was exactly the same as it was when she had left; except the younger girl's bed wasn't made, there was snack wrappers carelessly thrown about that would've usually made it into the trashcan, and her own red, blood-stained glass was still on the counter. It was strange. Before Carmilla left, Laura was constantly complaining about her cleaning up after herself, cleaning out the shower drain and wiping or picking up anything that she'd dropped on the floor. The sight of Laura's unkempt bed was foreign to her.

"Cupca—"

She was cut off by a tiny body crashing into her own, completely knocking the wind out of her and to an extent, reminding her of some injuries she'd managed to pick up during the whole 'murder the power-hungry mother and the starving light' ordeal. She sucked it up, after all, she'd heal soon anyway, and brought her arms up to encircle Laura's shoulders as hers came around Carmilla's waist.

It was… nice, intimate. Honestly, something that Carmilla had been waiting for since that night Laura and her clan of ginger cronies ambushed her. The ropes would have been a thing she was into if it had been under better circumstances. Sure, there was that lingering feeling of bitterness during the days that followed but her attraction to Laura wasn't something she could just put off.

The feeling of the girl pulling away brought Carmilla out of her thoughts and she watched her as she stood and brushed a stray hair behind her ear, her face flushed. She was expecting an outburst of shock or maybe a question as to what happened, so in no way was she prepared when she was met with an outburst of anger.

"Mircalla Karnstein! You could have _died!_"

Laura knew she should've been happy about her bloodsucker being alive (Her? Since when did she begin thinking of Carmilla as hers?), and she was. Genuinely. But Carmilla had risked her life and frankly, she was pissed. The full-blown smirk that was appearing on the others girls face did nothing to calm her down. "It's not funny! Do you know how worried I was? Do you—"

"Shut up, Laura." Carmilla stood and stepped forward, almost chest to chest with the tiny human full of worry and frustration. Her cold hands came up to Laura's cheeks, the pads of her thumbs slowly moving back and forth across her cheekbones as she leant down a little and tilted the head that was currently trapped between her hands up.

And she kissed her.

Carmilla Karnstein, useless vampiric lesbian, kissed Laura Hollis, the naïve provincial girl that was entirely too tightly wound.

There wasn't much difference between this kiss and any other kiss that she had experienced in her 334 year long life except from what it represented. It wasn't to lure a girl in or seduce her for her mother's use. It was purely just for her. Carmilla wanted to do it, wanted to show Laura how she felt. There was no underlying motive.

As for Laura, well, it just might have been the best kiss of her life. Not that she'd had that many to compare it to. It was no secret to her viewers that she had a huge crush on the broody 'creature of the night' but she liked to pride herself on the idea that she'd hidden it from the object of her affections and all of her friends quite well. LaFontaine knew, though. They always knew. Stupid bio majors.

It didn't last too long and was just a simple press of the lips, but it left Laura swooning. She sighed contently and looked down, a huge smile on her face. What Carmilla said next made her laugh and shake her head, all anger and worry gone.

"You do realise you could be considered a necrophiliac, right?"

A/N: This is the first fanfiction I've ever published, so you know, be kind because I'm super super nervous. You are more than welcome to tell me if you have any constructive criticism.


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